


History Obliterates

by consumptive_sphinx



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Third Kinslaying, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 02:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10151276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/pseuds/consumptive_sphinx
Summary: There are dozens of versions of what happened, that day in Sirion, and none of them are the same.(Or: who lives? who dies? and who tells your story?)





	

_ Here is what happened, as told by Pengolodh: _

Too late the ships of Cirdan and Gil-Galad the High King came hasting to the aid of the Elves of Sirion; and Elwing was gone, and her sons. Then such few of that people as did not perish in the assault joined themselves to Gil-Galad, and went with him to Balar; and they told that Elrond and Elros were taken captive, but Elwing with the Silmaril upon her breast had cast herself into the sea.

Thus Maedhros and Maglor gained not the jewel; but it was not lost. For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved. On a time of night Eärendil at the helm of his ship saw her come towards him, as a white cloud exceeding swift beneath the moon, as a star over the sea moving in strange course, a pale flame on the wings of storm. And it is sung that she fell from the air upon the timbers of Vingilot, in a swoon, nigh unto death for the urgency of her speed, and Eärendil took her into his bosom; but in the morning with marvelling eyes he beheld his wife in her own form beside him with her hair upon his face, and she slept. 

Great was the sorrow of Eärendil and Elwing for the ruin of the havens of Sirion, and the captivity of their sons, and they feared that they would be slain; but it was not so. For Maglor took pity on Elros and Elrond, and he cherished them, and love grew after between them, as little as could be thought; but Maglor’s heart was sick and weary with the burden of the dreadful oath. 

  
  


_ Here is what happened, as told by Elwing: _

My city was in flames. They had destroyed the realm I had sworn to protect, they had slaughtered my people, they had taken my children. I did not give them the Silmaril. It was not a choice, it was an instinct; it was my people’s hope, it was  _ my _ hope. 

They had me surrounded, the two Fëanorians and their soldiers. I didn't know what they would do to me. I jumped; what else could I have done? I did not know Ulmo would save me. I did not expect anything in particular. I was not trying to die, but I was not trying to live. 

When I found out they had my children I was furious. I am  _ still _ furious. They had  _ no right  _ — no right to the city, no right to my people, no right to my boys, no right to me, no right to any of it at all. That's why I kept fighting. That's why. 

  
  


_ Here is what happened, as told by Elros: _

She thought we were dead. That was why she did it, because she thought that the Fëanorians had killed us, and she didn’t want to give them a single thing. I wouldn’t have either, if they had killed my Vardamir, my Tindómiel. I didn’t either, after they kidnapped me. 

I remember her screaming at them, before she jumped. I was on the other side of the door and one of the Fëanorians’ soldiers was holding me back but I heard her. She said she wasn’t going to give them a single thing of hers, not after what they did to her children. 

She loved us. She loved us more than anything in the world. Don’t you  _ dare _ say otherwise. 

  
  


_ Here is what happened, as told by Maglor: _

Before she jumped, she screamed, and it was not in fear but in anger. She screamed that we had no right to any of it, no right to the city, no right to the jewel — she kept coming back to the jewel, how we had forsaken all rights to it, how it was hers; nevermind that it was  _ our _ father’s invention, stolen from  _ us. _ She never mentioned her sons. 

Of course I didn’t tell the boys that. They deserved better, they deserved a clean break, they deserved a parent who didn’t  _ leave them and everything they loved to burn in favor of chasing one of those useless jewels — _ sorry. Sorry. 

Elwing jumped out the window with the Silmaril and she turned into a bird. That’s what happened. That’s  _ all _ that happened. 

  
  


_ Here is what happened, as told by Eärendil: _

They had no claim to the Silmaril, I don’t care that their father invented it, they forsook it the moment the blood of the Teleri hit the sand of Alqualondë. My wife knew that, we both knew that, all of our people knew that. I would not have given them the Silmaril either. It was ours, to hold and to protect, our mission from the Valar, our hope. The people of Sirion supported her. To say that she should have traded with the dogs of Fëanor is worse than blind; it is very nearly criminal. 

I thank Uinen for protecting her every time I cross the Sea. The kind of faith my wife must have had, to leap from that window — I could never hope to approach it, not if I prayed every hour for a hundred years. I will never cease to be grateful. Not ever. 

  
  


_ Here is what happened, as told by Maedhros:  _

We had Elwing surrounded. She jumped out the window and took the jewel with her into the Sea. I don’t suppose I can blame her, considering everything — how much worse have I done, for the sake of those jewels, and how many times have I seen a precipice and hoped? 

  
  


_ Here is what happened, as told by Elrond: _

Do you want what I remember happening, or do you want what I believe now to have happened? They are two separate things. 

I do not truly remember — I was very young, you understand, and Ages of the world have passed since then. Sirion shone in the daytime and glowed white at night, when the only light was the stars and the moon and the Silmaril. My mother’s face looked something like Arwen’s. I do remember, very vividly, that when Maglor and Maedhros came it was night, and the city shone red with fire and when I first was woken up I thought it was sunset. 

Maglor told me that my mother screamed, although I don’t think he ever told me what she said. Maglor told me that my parents would have been proud of me; I do believe that he tried to raise us correctly. I don’t know whether I believe that he succeeded. 

But you didn’t ask for that. You asked what happened, and it is difficult to know what happened. There isn’t anybody left to ask, and there was nobody in the first place who I would trust as an objective source; except, perhaps, the Valar themselves. 

What I know is this: My parents then were younger than my sons are now, and they ruled the last safe haven in Middle-Earth. Both had survived previous Kinslayings. I cannot imagine taking on the burden they carried. I cannot imagine having to make the decisions they made. I know that I have not laid eyes on my father since I was six months old. And I know that if people who I feared held my children and demanded I give them Vilya, I would not do it.


End file.
